Slow Time
by kyunyo
Summary: For a man that had lost everything with a gunshot- he had nothing to lose, so why not? -KidCon-
1. i

A/N: If you've read my 2Planes drabbles and oneshots, this is the story that began 2PKidCon. If you haven't, it doesn't matter. Just treat this like a story after canon, when Conan doesn't turn back to Shinichi, when Kid has to continue stealing.

A typical falling in love fic. Enjoy~

–

–March 23

Beep.

_"You have three new messages. New Message. __March__ 23, 3:41 pm: Hey, Kidou-kun. How are things lately? Please let me know how you're doing. Hakuba-kun and I are thinking of going to the movies tomorrow, would you like to come?"_

Beep.

_"You have two new messages. New Message. __March__ 23. 5:09 pm: Kidou-kun, Hakuba-kun really hates you now for some reason. Does this have to do with the heist today?_

Beep.

_"You have one new message. New Message. __March__ 23. 9:23 pm: Oi, Katou, I don't have time to waste on your stupid little code. __Do you really__ have nothing better to do__?__ That aside, Nakamori-chan is still wondering if you're free tomorrow. Call back if you're interested."_

Beep_._

His thumb dragged across the keys of his white flip phone. The screen was bright, the light reflecting across his blue-tinted monocle. His gloved finger pressed the button, as he lounged back on the concrete floor of the roof.

Beep.

_"You have no new messages. Recorded message. __August__28__ XX. 11:46 pm: Hey, I know you're busy right now and this might sound sudden__,__ but I think I'm going to die–"_

Beep.

He flicked the phone shut and balanced it on his knee. With a snap of his fingers, white gloves produced the shimmering jewel. He rolled it in his hand, feeling the weight and the coolness through his white suede gloves.

Looks like Hakuba ditched.

What a lazy bastard.

He sighed and whirled the jewel into the air with a flick of his wrist. The breeze picked up and tousled his hair and his cape pooled behind him.

Up–

_Bored. _

Down–

_Bored. _

He had finished the heist about an hour ago, and was now perched a few buildings away from the museum.

It wasn't hard, especially after he had decided to relocate Nakamori-keibu to another prefecture a few weeks ago. His angry curses were fed through video when the heist started. But unfortunately for the inspector and the lost little crows, the connection broke and the Kid task force scattered, panicking whenever the echo of laughter bounced off the walls.

And from the glass case to his white suede gloves, the jewel went.

He leaned backwards and lifted the jewel up to the moon for the fifth time.

Nothing.

He wasn't surprised that he only saw the gleam of solid blue. It lacked the hollow space that would have held the other half of Pandora.

He clenched the cool stone tightly in his left hand– feeling a burn and strain in his wrist before letting go. He unfurled his fingers. The jewel was gone, a wisp of smoke rising from his sleeve.

It had been four years and counting since he'd started his search.

Almost every jewel he had touched since then was empty, fruitless. The one that had _something_ in it sunk into his wrist and left him screaming–

That was a long time ago– _when guns and blood had smeared the white fabric of his suit_– but tonight, there was no such thing.

It was another still and cloudless night.

No police sirens, no Nakamori-keibu, no crowd, the like–

And he found himself struggling to breathe within the silence. The rush of adrenaline, the thrill of danger, the sound of gunshots had gone to be replaced by the mundane dregs of life.

He'd had his breath and heart beat stolen. Every day, he lived on quiet sighs.

"How predictable," he murmured, eyeing the trail of red and blue retreating toward the police station. They've given up the chase. It hasn't even been two hours yet.

Before, they would persist for the entire night, but– oh right, he forgot that Nakamori-keibu wasn't there to browbeat them.

How disappointing.

He had enjoyed the thrill of the chase before, had loved tripping the alarms, loved seeing all the futile attempts and gadgets brought in a poor attempt to capture him.

But now the streets, filled with the excited hum of the crowd an hour ago, had dissipated into the quiet revs of car engines and traffic. The voices of his fans had once fueled him.

_He was tired of all the attention, the fame– _

He sighed and flicked his phone open again, turning on the camera function, and leaning back to catch the moon.

_Click._

"Ah, wow, this phone sucks. I should get a new one."

This was the internationally infamous Phantom Thief Kid and he was bored.

The young adult dropped his hand to his side, eyes still staring at the white orb floating in the sky. The clouds rolled over the moon and a wistful sigh passed his lips. The breeze nipped at his face– it was cold but slowly warming as the seasons changed.

It was still, it was quiet. He hated it.

But he still waited because he had faith.

It would only be a matter of time before _he_ would come and overturn the usual cat and mouse game that made Kid's brain reel.

_He _would appreciate the under-appreciated genius that worked behind the neon spaghetti strings and glittery goop– although he did gripe about it when he was the unfortunate victim of Kid's booby traps–

The hurried flurry of steps from the stairwell sounded through the air. The door blasted open and the steps approached him from behind. He idly cast a glance at his phone, he didn't turn around– he didn't need to.

_Because this was when he lived. _

Beep.

"I'm here–"

Tantei-kun– Kid smiled warmly, feeling a pulse rise in his throat– only _Tantei-kun_ never disappointed him.

"Kid."

It was just one word– _his name_– said in a breathless huff, and Kid closed his eyes, listening to the rough inhale and exhale of air. The initial thrill had been lost during the actual chase– police sirens, a cussing voice, and screaming fans meant nothing.

But this moment–when he was_ caught, found, noticed, acknowledged_– was what he practically lived for.

_It was the sole reason why he kept stealing in white. _

An immense satisfaction flushed through his veins, quietly thrumming under his skin.

Beep.

"An hour and a half," Kid started, fingers pressing the button again to stop the timer. "Impressive."

A two-sentence code had sent Tantei-kun skateboarding around Tokyo, grasping at every clue and hint only to find that Kaitou Kid was lounging a block away from the museum–

"Bastard."

And the fact that his little pursuer was standing behind him, _breathing_–

Kid breathed in, lips quirking softly.

"Tantei-kun," he sang, flipping his phone high into the air before having it disappear. The footsteps staggered closer and Kid turned. "Enjoyed yourself?"

"Yeah. Immensely."

Kid chose to ignore the sarcasm lacing his words and smiled. He said nothing; likewise, Conan wasn't expected to say anything more besides the well-practiced– _"__You__ going to return it or what–?"_

The silence dragged for a second too long and Kid's curiosity piqued. The detective's breathing had turned shallow, and sharp blue eyes flickered behind drooping lashes–

Something was off–

Kid tilted his head.

"Tan–?"

"Stupid skateboard–" Conan grumbled before his body leaned forward haphazardly.

He fell and Kid caught him, arm stretching to grab the middle-schooler before his knees dug into the concrete. He felt the harsh breath against his chest and Kid heaved a sigh.

Ah, right.

He forgot about the skateboard and how it couldn't power itself during the night– oh, and how skateboards can't ride up staircases. And Kid just so happened to be idling about on a building with a broken elevator.

Wow, Tantei-kun was right for once– he _was_ a bastard.

The small detective– well, over the years he had grown, but was still so bite-sized– had burrowed his face into Kid's suit, arms and legs hanging limp. And he noticed how comfortable it was holding the boy– Kid wanted to take the opportunity to wrap his arms around the narrow torso and crush the little detective in a tight, rewarding hug–

Kid blinked.

Tantei-kun had said something. What was it again–? Right, _bastard_–

"You didn't have to come, Tantei-kun."

The detective didn't even offer a grunt or a cuss, but simply collapsed against into Kid. He leaned backwards, and maneuvered the detective into a comfortable position against his chest. Kicking away the initial thought of throwing his arms around Conan's waist, he placed a gentle hand on Conan's side and felt the rapid and shallow rise and fall of his breath.

With a lingering eye, he assessed the battered clothes.

Little splashes of dried dirt on his socks and legs were evidence that the detective had trucked right through the park construction. Bits of leaves and twigs clung to his hair; water dripped from the sleeves around his wrist, his skin was sticky and cold with a layer of sweat.

He had surpassed Kid's expectations– after all, his code wasn't easy. Kid didn't mean for it to be easily solved within a few minutes– it would've taken hours, and Tantei-kun did just that.

_An hour and __a __half._

"Hakuba wouldn't have done it, so why would you?" Kid asked airily once the detective's erratic breath leveled out. The small head shifted against his suit– he caught the scent of something vanilla mixed in with that spike of sweat–

With something like an abrupt push, Conan quickly righted himself and scrambled to his feet, eyes boring holes into the floor. A faint pink dusted his face, whether from running endlessly around or from something else– Kid had always thought the splash of pink against his pale cheekbones looked nice under the moonlight.

Especially today when the clouds floated and the moon's luminance made his face radiant–

"I…it's…"

Conan swallowed a mouthful of air, frowned and then grumbled, "It was because no one wanted to solve it that I did."

And like that, that was his answer.

No particular reason– no really, just an apparent love for codes and a certain thief that makes them. No clear answer, only _just because._

How charming, Kid thought, carefully watching the boy standing up and brushing his pants free from twigs and grass. Kid's eyes lingered on his pants before moving down– what small and thin legs. He'd always admired how quick the little detective was, but how on earth did he carry himself up twenty-two floors–?

_It was because he was determined to catch __him__ before he flew off–_

The thought made his heart flutter.

"I solved it. So hand it over."

Kid's eyes jerked up to see a small hand splayed open in front of him, palm up and waiting. The glint of huge glasses hid the spark of blue reflected in the large eyes. He nodded, hat tilting to cast a shadow over his face.

His fingers snapped, a rose and jewel exploding into his gloved hands in a cloud of blue smoke– _maybe he wanted to try something new, because everything__ had__ been so routine, so dull– _

The appearance of the thornless rose startled Tantei-kun– baffled him more like because the detective shot him a confused look before staring back down at the red flower. Kid enclosed the stem and stone in his small hands.

"Eh–?"

The startled look, the eyes that quickly tried to deduce _why_ and _how_ – Ah, Tantei-kun had always looked especially adorable like that: when he had that child-like _curiosity _on his face. Maybe he was bored, but he wouldn't mind stealing a kiss from the lips that the detective was chewing–

He swept Conan's other hand into his own and pressed his lips against it.

"For the trouble you went through, Tantei-kun. Many apologies"

He winked.

The red on his face was cute; he looked absolutely scandalized, especially when small puffs of air started to exit his mouth. It looked like whatever the detective had been planning to say had become a jumbled mess of gasps.

Kid smirked– hm, that was a really cute reaction.

He absently wondered how mortified Tantei-kun would be if he did more–

"I- I'm not a girl–" The rose was quickly pushed back into Kid's glove, but the flush on his cheeks still lingered. Conan swallowed and then took a deep breath, and Kid's chest felt ten times lighter–

Because when he breathed, _he _breathed.

"Very well." He closed his hand around the rose and tucked it up his sleeves. His gloved fingers caught Conan's hands– small, little things they were– in a persistent, gentle tug. "It's late at night, shall I fly you home?"

Conan's shoulders sprung up, mouth dropping open in the process. "Fly–?" Large eyes met his for the briefest moment before turning away. If he thought his cheeks couldn't get any redder, Kid was proved wrong.

The blush was furiously bright against his skin and Kid wanted to cup the side of his face, and see the stark contrast between white and red–

"No, I'll…" And he bit his words off, throwing a furtive look to the side. He ripped his hands from Kid's grasp when he absently thumbed his knuckles. Conan ducked his head curtly, muttered some kind of formal farewell–

"Uhm, excuse me–"

(Odd, he'd never really done that before, had he?)

–And tripped away towards the door of the rooftop.

Kid laughed to himself, watching the detective disappear down the stairwell after another quick bow when he happened to make eye contact with him.

The thick metal door slammed shut and Kid stood up from the cool cement roof.

"Well, that was interesting." His lips pressed into a thin smile. The sigh still lingered in his breath, but it didn't feel quite as heavy as before.

He patted the nonexistent dirt off his suit as he twirled on his heels. Several steps forwards and one step up had his toes off the edge of a twenty floor building.

To think the little detective ran up all twenty floors. He had very impressive stamina.

And also very strong devotion–

_His little detective did that for him? What a cute guy,_ he found himself thinking as he took a step, purposefully lost ground and plummeted.

And thus ended one of his many performances in the quiet hours of the night. His audience– devoted fans for four years– had scattered. His disgruntled crows had flown back to their nest.

In the end, he found himself standing on the stage facing empty rows of velvet chairs.

It was boring. But he stayed because only one person was worthy of being the audience to his grand scheme of thievery.

Only one person repeatedly ran into the empty theatre and unraveled the tricks and the slips of the world-infamous Phantom Thief.

_His most favorite critic. _

Kid's hang glider swung out behind him and he twisted easily.

When would he see him again? He rather liked that flushed face of his; it was cute. What new code would he write just for his Tantei-kun? The thought of the boy running around Tokyo just for him made his chest lighten and swell with pride– _"Because no one else would that I did."_

It was cute, endearing, adorable–

He laughed and spun in the air as electricity bolted through his veins. Maybe he liked him– that cute face and brilliant, sharp mind.

Kid smiled as he felt warmth bloom in the pit of his stomach.

_Maybe he liked him for all these years– _

"See you soon, Tantei-kun~"

–

Nakamori-keibu was not happy when he came back from his relocation to Kyoto.

It took a few days for him to find out that the authority and paperwork that assigned him there were all done by the only person who could steal a face and a signature.

Honestly, Kid thought he was doing the inspector a favor by giving him a vacation, and he explained so to a very red-faced Nakamori during a bustling night in April. He got a mouthful of cuss words thrown at him instead, and before Kid could explain further, Nakamori-keibu ordered his army to barrage him with rubber bullets.

He hopped and slipped behind a pillar, the shadows gave him plenty of cover– earlier, he had shut the museum's electricity, since it'd be more fun to play in the dark.

"Keibu, have you ever thought of changing the color of these?" Kid asked after drawing in a deep breath. A stiff smile was etched on his lips; a tired twinkle was in his eyes.

Maybe it was a spur of the moment thing, but he reached out a hand to catch one of the bullets and winced when an amazingly pink rubber pellet drilled into his palm– right, that wasn't smart at all.

He sucked in a harsh breath, swallowed a small curse– _live the mask, live the lie_– and forced out a gentle laugh, the smooth sound bouncing off the walls. He threw the rubber bullet into his left hand while slapping his hand into the pillar behind him.

_Pain, pain, go away– _

He distractedly studied the bullet– neon and atrociously bright, even in the dark– as the harsh sting faded away from his fingertips.

"Would you care to change the color to blue? Pink doesn't flatter me at all–"

The firing paused at the echo of his words, and Kid imagined it had thrown the officers into confusion. It'd only be a matter of time before Nakamori-keibu decided to stretch his vocal chords and–

"He's as obvious as a _damn bed sheet_, how the fuck can you idiots _miss_ the bastard– search for him, dammit!"

Kid snorted.

Being compared to a bed sheet was something Kid didn't take a liking to. Then again, he didn't really fancy the idea of being pelted by rubber bullets either.

He'd rather face the crosshairs of Tantei-kun's tranq-watch than cheap guns–

Speaking of the little detective, where was he?

Another bullet whizzed past his face and he felt the sting run across his cheek. With a grunt, he pushed the question to the back of his head and ducked away from behind the columns.

He ran right out onto the expanse of floor in the middle of the museum.

Ditch the annoying police, find Tantei-kun later.

With 0.3 of an average human reaction and another 2 seconds of gaping in surprise because a _bed sheet_ was flying their way, Kid had ample time to skip on top of the obnoxious tall glass case, swipe the gem, and back flip to the second floor.

The police officers didn't even know what happened.

He swung to a stop on the railings, feet steadily balanced, fist enclosing the gem. The museum was the perfect playground for an acrobatic and airborne thief– he really would have to thank the architect for making it easy for him to use a grapple gun.

"K-KID–"

He quirked an amused eyebrow. What predictable little crows– just gaping at him and lowering their guns as if they couldn't _aim _at him from the first floor.

If they weren't pointing the rubber bullet guns at him, then they were staring at him with some sort of awe– and they _must_ be new if they were trying to figure out how Kid got up there in the first place rather than shoot him down.

Kid suppressed a sigh.

_Really, where was Tantei-kun? _

"Second floor– he's on the second floor–!"

Lovely, Kid absently thought, taking a step back off the railings and landing on the marble tiles. He disappeared into a dark shadow cast by the columns, half-lidded eyes watching the task force run amok on the first floor.

And Nakamori-keibu, face red, with a megaphone in hand– "Get the damn fool, you idiots! Get onto the top floor! He's going to escape through the roof–"

Kid turned, flicking his cape behind him. He leisurely strode through the dark halls, enjoying the thunderous stomps of the officers heading upstairs.

He passed several roped exhibition rooms, his gloved hand fingering and playing with the small jewel he had taken earlier and quite easily too.

After holding so many heists over the years, one would think _anyone_ would have learned not to blatantly display the jewel in a glass case.

Very dull.

Well, well, if Nakamori-keibu was going to crowd the roof with police, he'll just take the front door to avoid stairway traffic.

Simple.

Small padded echoes behind him broke the silence in the second floor.

He stopped momentarily, the tail of his cape fluttering to sweep against his ankles. The light taps faded into silence. His lips quirked. Huffing, Kid purposefully walked into a dark exhibition room. The black slowly ate his white attire.

He passed several glass cases of hand painted pottery before stopping.

"If you want something, you should say so."

And he turned to see the little boy standing still with his watch hovering near his face, lens flicked up, crosshairs aimed probably at his neck.

The detective didn't move, didn't breathe– he only held the watch up with a wary glint in his eyes.

There was a stretch of silence and the little detective spoke up, eyes glaring at him through the watch lens. "You've gotten more reckless."

Kid hummed, eyes fondly regarding the boy– no doubt the little detective was hiding out somewhere. He probably slipped under the police's watch and made his home on the second floor to watch the first.

"Hm, excellent observation. How did you reach that conclusion?"

Conan didn't miss a beat.

"You had no plan. The only preparation you made was your grapple gun that I found conveniently sitting behind a pillar. If anything, you were ready to make a run for it and just head to the roof. You had nothing else, no traps, no tricks. And the rubber bullet, you stuck your hand out and gave your position away. It was only luck that you weren't gunned down during your climb up."

Kid felt a weight lift from his shoulders, his smile showed teeth.

"You do a lot of things for the hell of it, don't you?"

Kid shrugged, laughing. "Don't you think that life is a bit boring now?"

Conan didn't return the smile; his sharp eyes seemed to pierce through the plastic lens. "Well, I caught you. Care to return what you stole, great Phantom Thief?"

"Excuse me?" Kid bounced the gem in his hand, juggling it rather carelessly for what was regarded as a three hundred million yen antique. His grin was manic.

Finally for the first time that night, he felt his blood pulse. "Stolen? I'm merely borrowing it. You've been to enough of my heists to know that 'borrowing' is my modus operandi–"

Conan squinted through his watch lens, the crosshairs moving up. "How about I take a few steps closer and shoot your face–"

"That is kind of you to offer, Tantei-kun," Kid lightly danced backwards, shoes echoing softly withinin the contained room. "But I'll have to implore you to allow me several minutes with the jewel before I can return it."

Conan laughed dryly and the sound tickled Kid's ears, making the hairs on his neck rise on end. "And if I say no–"

Something grazed past the nape of Conan's neck and his words stopped in his throat and came out as a startled gasp. Kid's eyes widened. Something small burrowed into the side of Tantei-kun's head _–something atrociously pink–_ and knocked his glasses off–

"Guys, over here, I think I heard something–"

The glasses skidded across the floor quietly but the glimmer of the lens died under the falling shadows of the corner.

Kid held his breath, neck strained as he listened for the police. He had his white gloved hand pressed on the back of a hoodie. The head on his chest shifted and he caught the scent of coconut-vanilla soap–

"Shh…" he whispered into the detective's hair, his other hand protectively pressing into Conan's back. He could feel the warmth of hot breath spreading into his chest. Beams of light interrupted the shadows, but Kid shifted against the wall.

The light trail barely hit his white shoes before flitting away.

It'd be too boring if the police caught Kid just then– he'd been waiting for _Tantei-kun_ for over an hour.

The footsteps echoed on after a few confused murmurs and then faded into the white noise of the museum room.

Silence ate them, and Kid hadn't fallen asleep just yet, so Tantei-kun had probably forgotten about the tranq watch– or he didn't want Kid to be caught like this.

The thought of Tantei-kun holding him in such regard made Kid's face warm and his chest warm– and it wasn't because Conan's face was buried in it.

He let out a deep breath when the footsteps finally disappeared down the hall. He turned his head down to look at the small tuft of hair that was enclosed by his white apparel. The detective's breath had slowed and his body stilled– no doubt he also felt the inherent need to stay silent.

His body really fits– Kid absently entertained the thought while running his palm flat against the small back. It was almost as tiny as before– a bit bigger but still so small– and it fit really nicely with his own–

Kid paused and caught his hand before it wandered anywhere near the detective's waist–

It wasn't the first time he'd had the thought.

Small hands started to bat at his chest, trying to push away, almost too desperately. Kid was reluctant to let go– when had he grabbed him anyways? But it was comfortable while it lasted and Kid wondered what it'd feel like to _cuddle_ with him–

It was almost scary– in a pleasantly chilling way– to realize that he'd had the urge before.

"I…" Conan was trying to pull himself together, his hand traveling to his temple. He was probably trying to digest what had just happened.

Kid watched him in the faint light, and he thought that Tantei-kun without his glasses looked very cute– with some semblance of _Meitantei-kun_ but not quite there.

A perfect mix of a sharp, mature mind behind a childish façade and it held a mysterious allure for him because _he was living a mask too._

"…What was that?"

Kid stood up with a flourish of his cape. His dress shoes quietly tapped against the marble floor and he picked up the oversized glasses. They were thick and strange, probably another one of Tantei-kun's weird gadgets.

And like his monocle, they hid something dark and deep– and he wasn't just talking about his eyes.

"Rubber bullets. I've told him a million times to change the color. It makes for a humiliating object to be hit with," he replied promptly. Kid faced Conan and studied him– his confused and disorientated expression– as his hand discreetly folded the glasses up. "Who knew that keibu had sent some officers down this corridor."

Conan tossed his head to the side and spat, "They were looking for me."

Kid's interest piqued. Officers chasing after critics on their own side? The thought amused him greatly. "Oh?"

"They found me a while back before the heist. Nakamori-keibu doesn't like me so–" Of course, he wouldn't. After so many Kid heists where only Conan was competent enough to confront him, Kid wouldn't blame the inspector for being so bitter. "– they tried to track me down."

"My, my…then it's quite fortunate, isn't it? If you were ever caught…" Kid took several steps closer and Conan's head jerked up. Each step was slow and calculated. Judging by the way his shoulders tensed, Conan's suspicions heightened every time a step echoed off the walls.

Never become too comfortable with an enemy– Kid knew Conan's mind was probably whirring down that track. He was a foot away from him now.

"…I would have to steal you out of jail, neh, Tantei-kun?" he lowered his voice to a whisper, his eyes glinting with amusement at the visible shiver traveling down Conan's neck.

"I–" he seemed to have forgotten what he was going to say. Conan looked quite adorable like that, fumbling around to grasp lost words. He was flustered, yes– but primarily confused. The detective shook his head and turned on his heels. "Well this was a waste of my time–"

Oh. So he didn't even notice–

"Don't you want them back?" Kid feigned a yawn, giving a lopsided grin and a tired glance at the ten year old.

Conan looked adorably clueless at this point, Kid smiled inwardly.

Without his glasses, he looked less sinister, less scheming. He looked like the innocent kid that he was supposed to be– which was scary and tempting.

"If you're going to give it back, I don't see why you had to stall," he snapped, irritation clear in his voice– it seemed like the years had thinned his patience. Conan fisted his hand tightly before opening it like before. "Save the tricks–"

Kid noticed a faint blush rising on his cheek– _you mean the rose, Tantei-kun?_

"Of course, Tantei-kun–"

He threw the small rock into the air and Conan caught it easily. The small boy breathed a bit, a faint smile of triumph on his lips. Kid used the moment's distraction and flicked Conan's glasses high into the air, catching them between his fingers on their descent. "And I suppose you don't want your glasses?'

He inhaled sharply.

_Oh shoot. _

_Right._

_His glasses. When did he even–?_ Conan's eyes darted around quickly– Kid was getting really good at reading people's expressions. And with something like a glare, Conan opened his other hand. "Give back my glasses–"

"No." And he snapped the glasses open, holding them far up in the air. He snickered– height advantage was one of the things he enjoyed having over the little detective. "It's only fair. You have the gem, I'll have your glasses. Fair trade, isn't it?"

Kid's smirking smile reduced Conan's arguments to a pout. Conan suddenly stilled, eyes flicking to the left– _tap, tap–_ the police were coming back down the hall. And Kid cringed at the spark in the very blue eyes–

"Kid-_niichan–"_

Conan tackled him hard, nearly knocking Kid off his feet and forcing him to take several steps back to keep his balance. The little detective had his hands batting at the glasses barely out of his reach, chest pressed against Kid's torso–

Very smart, but what a spawn of the devil–

"Give me back my glasses–!" Conan whined loudly, voice pitched high and tiny loose fists hammering against Kid's chest. Kid was amused at the thought– in four years the detective had grown very little, maybe a few inches but he was still short.

"No can do," he sighed, taking a step back when the detective very nearly fell against him from all the jumping. With the constant whining, it'd only take the police a few minutes to figure out their location.

"I need them to see in class tomorrow–" And his large eyes became larger, his blue eyes started to bubble with water. Kid was momentarily taken aback, staring at the glistening drops of tears that collected in the boy's eyes. He knew it was an act– considering all the hiding and tricking he had to do, Tantei-kun was a top-notch actor– but Kid started to feel guilt eat at him– _oh, the things Tantei-kun __could__ make him feel._

Kid ripped his eyes away and instead directed his attention to inspecting the glasses.

He'd seen them in action– the tracking lenses and Conan's stickers– and he'd always been careful to not get those stickers stuck on him. Kid moved a finger to dissemble a small attachable device on the side of his glasses– this way Conan can't track him down when Kid steals away his glasses.

"Give. Them. Back–" He resorted to childish whining and light slaps against his white suit. They barely hurt, and Kid absently wondered what the small detective would achieve by doing this– and Conan's body was really warm and his voice was really distracting– though too venomously sweet for his liking.

Kid snickered and pulled the glasses out of reach. "Not unless you trade the gem–" When he looked down, Conan had tears clinging on his eyelashes with an adorable– _embarrassed_– blush dusting his cheeks. And for some reason Kid wanted to kiss the edge of his eyes and wrap his arms around him–

"Kid-_niichan_–"

Footsteps echoed through the hallway and beams of light crossed haphazardly against the marble floor. Oh, that was faster than usual. Kid saw a little scheming smirk flicker across the kid's face.

"Who's there–?!"

"Well, I think I'll be going–" And he placed the glasses onto his face, swapping them out with his monocle. "And in return for your glasses..."

He pressed the monocle onto Conan's face and kissed the glass surface quickly– he heard the clink of the glasses against the monocle. He breathed onto the slightly tinted glass, watching the wide blue eye disappear behind the hot breath. "Thank you very much, Tantei-kun."

He pulled back and licked his dry lips, mentally devouring the flush that settled on Tantei-kun's cheeks.

Honestly, if he could have a heist every day just to see _that_ face Tantei-kun was making– oh, he would, even if he had to go about stealing the jewels he had already stolen.

"Wait–!"

Kid smiled warmly as a beam of light hit the middle of his back.

"Well, good evening~" He flicked his cape behind his shoulder, and took a step back before leaping over the railings and back to the first floor of the museum. In his descent, he saw Conan run to the railings, eyes peering down between the bars.

Police officers shouted over him, flashlight beams skated over him.

He landed on the ground with a clack of his dress shoes before starting his run.

He laughed at himself for feeling the guilt spread throughout his body when the boy's tears were threatening to spill. Goodness, he would be in a whole lot of trouble if Tantei-kun tried that trick again.

Kid disappeared into a bathroom near the exit of the museum. Outside, a stampede ran across the marble floor. He casually switched out of his uniform, enjoying the shouts and commands echoing from the large hall.

Clothed in a light jacket, thin shirt, and black jeans, with the glasses still on his face, Kid strolled out from the public restroom, with a sling bag containing his Kid clothes in tow.

The place was swarming with on-lookers– hm, they haven't left so quickly this time– so the police didn't pay him any attention as he lightly skipped his way into the crowds.

Well, tonight was a treat.

Kid turned around and watched the museum buzz with life. Probably at this moment, the police would be trying to wrestle his monocle away from Tantei-kun, who would be too reluctant to give it up or too embarrassed to supply a story as to how he got it.

Kid reached up, his fingers brushing over his chest. He couldn't ignore the warm feeling bursting from the spot where Tantei-kun had breathed.

_Maybe he liked him– that brilliant mind with a cute face and confident smirk. _

Something in his chest thrummed, a thought nestling in his mind, and he smiled.

Yeah, he probably did.

Kid pushed up his newly acquired glasses and hopped on home, whistling.

–

A/N: -slinks away quietly and hides underneath a rock never to be seen again until the next update. o uo-

I hope you all have enjoyed this ridiculously long chapter. I swear the next ones won't be this long and agonizing to read. orz;


	2. ii

A/N: Abububub, sorry for not updating as quick as I wanted to. I've been busy with the holidays, drawing, and getting my doujinshi to finally be printed. (Not to mention I'm already working on a new one and the deadline is in March. |D;; ERP. BUSY BUSY.;; )

RIGHT: **Shameless advertisement. **

If you have a paypal, can spare maybe 12 dollars (excluding shipping), love KidCon and Kaishin, chibis, and pointless fluff. PLEASE CHECK OUT THIS LINK!

fav. me/d5rpnz (without spaces)

Thank you Pounce for helping me with beta-ing- AND ALSO DON'T BUY MY DOUJINSHI. I'll ship you a free copy with a bunch of Kaishin/ Kidcon goodies okayz? ;a; Just waittt. -clings-

/ END SHAMELESS ANNOUCENMENT.

–

–

Beep.

_Recorded message. __August__28__ XX. 11:46 pm: _

"Hey, I know you're busy right now and this might sound sudden but, I think I'm going to die–"

He re-adjusted the black flip phone in his hand and pressed it closer to his ear. There were distant shouts behind him– Nakamori-keibu and his men again, trying to scramble into the glass building's stairwell– and then a steady breath.

_"Interesting thing to say after being silent for three months, Kuroba-kun."_

"Well, after all this time, I've done my share of thinking." He leaned back and coolly regarded the drop in front of him. "I apologize if I'm interrupting anything of importance. I hope you're not busy, Tantei-sa–?"

There was a tense pause and he clicked his tongue, slipping into a playful laugh–_ this wasn't the first time he__'d__ slipped and not the first time the detective __had __caught him._

"Hakuba. Do me a favor, will you?"

–live the lie, live the lie, _live the lie…_

"_Mm. Do you have any last words?"_ He knew scarlet eyes were watching him as he dangled a foot over the roof of the three-story building. The light on the black phone flashed off the skin near his ear.

"Can you tell everyone I said goodbye?"

His gaze softened as he pinpointed a certain blond detective gazing up at him from the chaotic mess on the street below. He lifted the corner of his lips, monocle glinting. "And tell them not to miss me."

"_Seeing how you've been avoiding us all, no one would miss you, Kuroba-kun." _

He laughed, the hole in his chest only widened as he leaned back against the ledge.

"Can't you say something better? Offer condolences or try to talk me out of it? God, you're cruel. Your friend is telling you the secrets of his heart–!"

From three stories up, he could see the blond offer a plastic smile, eyes never leaving him. There was a slight crease in his brow and a trembling edge to his stoic voice.

_Why so forlorn, Hakuba?_

"_What would you like me to say?" _There was a careful pause. _"That you've changed since you were injured–?" _

"You're hilarious, Hakuba." He brushed his free hand over his arm, gripping it lightly. There was a slight throb and his fingers released their grip. "You're still talking to me like I'm Kid."

He saw the trace of a soft smile before it slipped. _"Well then… allow me pretend for a while. Kaitou Kid– You're throwing away everything you know now for the sake of a stupid gem– I know that you don't want others to be involved, but do you honestly know how absurd __that__ sounds? Just back out of it–" _

"Kid's already on their target list, leaving is out of the question. If they happen to gain leverage in his personal life, don't you think the consequences would be much greater than those of his choice?"

"…_you can trust the police." _ –_trust me_, his eyes seemed to say.

"I can't." He pressed his lips into a thin line. "Not when no one knows what Pandora can do."

Silence.

"_Try to be careful, you only have one life." _

He stared at the dark scarlet eyes watching him and he smiled, weight briefly lifting from his. The warm summer air nipped at the back of his neck as he breathed in and let out a quick sigh– "Ah, there is one more thing…"

"_Hm?" _

He could hear muffled curses from the emergency escape stairwells– the crowd of police on the ground had thinned, leaving only a handful of blue uniformed men and a black-suited blond.

"There…There is someone that I think you should meet. He just recently flew in from Europe. His name is Katou Kidou."

_"That's quite unoriginal,"_ the voice was airy.

He shook his head, laughing quietly under his breath. He brought his other hand to his neck, gloved fingers rubbing down the ache in his shoulder. "Can I ask you to be nice to him? He's not normal."

"_Since when were your friends ever normal?"_ He shared a soft laugh with the voice on the other end of the line. "_But I'll try my best, Kuroba-kun." _

This was a suicide note written with his voice and witnessed by a detective, a close friend–

"And can you… can you tell Aoko not to be sad? Can you do that for me?"

_"…She'll understand."_

He nodded and withdrew the blinking black phone from his ear– "Thanks."

Dark red eyes met his gaze.

_"Goodbye, Kuroba Kaito."_

_End recorded message. _

Beep.

–

"–_hand it over." _

The gun smirks in the dim light. The click is loud.

His heartbeat drums in his ears.

"_Hand this over? How about, I say– no." _

His voice trembles, only slightly. Poker face is still in check.

Gloved hand clenches the cool black ruby, dress shoes step back.

"_We know how hard you've been looking for this, but you should let it go, or else some__ innocent__ people will have to get hurt–" _

A barrel presses into the back of his head and he stops, sweat falls.

Draw in a breath. One. Two. Three–

He drops away from the metal, turns on his heel, and begins to run–

"–_get him!" _

"–_Pandora–" _

A gun shot splits the deafening white noise. Hot pain lances up his side, he grabs his stomach, knuckles white, fingers clenched–

Run, run, _run_–

He crumples.

White suit stained red, left hand covered in scarlet.

"– _get him now–" _

_Bang_– whiplash against his face, red spilling into his eyes. His monocle cracks, his eye stings. Hands close around his wrist. Fingers dig into his skin, clawing at the little black jewel.

He can't breathe, darkness smokes his vision.

"_Nn––!" _

It's a blood-curdling scream, the brittle glass windows shatters.

He sees nothing, feels nothing, but hears screams echo in his ears and his arm _moves._

Sharp pain subsides as something else– _energy, life, breath_ – blooms up his hand in a steady flow.

His heart beats hard as his fist connects with a prominent jaw.

"_Bastard–" _

White suede glove, soaked heavily with something red and thick, crushes the end of a barrel. He sees nothing, eyes dull, empty, bleeding.

"_Kid–!"_

It sounds familiar, a voice distinctive even in a crowd. _Someone else is here– is _he_ here? _

He can't think.

It fires– backfires.

He feels nothing.

It hits the other right in the knees. The gun falls to the ground. It echoes–

_BANG–_

_Bang–_

_bang…_

Beep.

He woke with a sharp gasp, his limbs landing heavily on the sheets.

What was that– _what kind of sick joke of a dream was that_–?

Kid sighed deeply and threw an arm over his eyes as a deep shudder consumed his body. He breathed steadily through his nose–

The air was stale and reeked of sweat. His entire back was moist; the pillow behind his head was uncomfortably warm– _disgusting_.

He rolled onto his stomach and face planted into the cushion–

_It was another one of those haunting nights. _

His nose was crushed and he couldn't breathe–

That wasn't a great idea.

Maybe he should shower– what time was it? He dragged a sluggish arm out to sweep at the makeshift bedside table. Fingers hit cardboard, cold glass, and then finally his phone–

_Beep, beep, beep…_

His alarm was going off.

He must have fallen into a light sleep for five to ten minutes or so, because he jolted awake only to find that he hadn't moved his phone closer to his face and the annoying soft beep was still floating through the air.

With a grunt of effort, he flicked the phone open in the pitch black and rolled onto his back. He glared up at the screen– 3:14 a.m.

For some goddamn reason his alarm decided to ring at three.

He snapped it shut and tossed it above his head. It hit the headboard and fell into his pillows. He let out a tired groan as the air swam thickly around him.

_It was so hot, god damn it, why– _

Right, he was going to shower.

Sleepily, Kid pushed himself to sit up, peeling the moist sheets back from his bare chest. He blinked the sleep from his eyes, hands automatically patting the cardboard box again to find the round plastic lens–

The monocle sat snug on his nose and the charm swayed to hit his chest as he nearly flung himself out of bed.

Shower, shower–

His body was burning and it was unbearable– it was spring turning into summer, it was ridiculous for it to be _this _hot. Though he was sure the smoky burn had a lot to do with the red sliver in his wrist–

It was throbbing now and the best he could do was suck in a deep breath as his naked feet slapped harshly against the wooden floor boards.

He stumbled over the boxes scattered on the floor– he'd clean that up later. But right now– _shower._

Sharp bright lights stung his eyes and he squeezed them shut. His legs automatically took him across the cold bathroom tiles and into the shower.

Kid exhaled slowly– _ah, shit, shit, it was burning_–

_Shhh– _

Ice water rained down his shoulders as fingers twisted the metal knob. His hands braced the tiled wall and he hissed as muscles clenched tight under the chill. It was cold– _hot_– cold– _hot_–

He glared at the red sliver glimmering in his left wrist. Annoying damn thing.

Kid closed his eyes, the water numbing him, washing away the ghastly chill of his dream and the heat of his body.

He couldn't remember a night when he had slept peacefully.

Another minute of standing and meditating on numbers (he had always been a math person, might as well compute how many gallons of water he's using), Kid stumbled out from the shower, soaked sweatpants dragging along the bathroom floor–

Kid had done a lot of dumb things over the course of his life, and showering with his clothes on was one of them.

With a grunt, he peeled off his clothes and left them on the floor. He'd pick them up later once the water seeped out. He yanked a towel from the rack and dried himself, grabbing another to throw over his head.

The first thing he did once he walked out from the bathroom and into his bedroom was pull open his drawers and rummage around, pulling out a change of clothes. He was slipping on his pants when he noticed the vision in his right eye was comparably blurred and…watery?

Ugh– did he just shower with his monocle too?

Kid sighed and pulled it off, using the corner of his drier towel to wipe the lens. With the amount of time he's wasted, Kid wouldn't be surprised if it was four in the morning.

That'd mean he had only slept for two hours.

Stupid alarm clock.

There was no use trying to fall back asleep on a bed that reeked sweat and tears, so he might as well stay up. With the curtains drawn tight, the darkness loomed.

On his way to the light switch, he walked right into the corner of something hard. He sucked in a harsh breath to ease the throb, but–

His fist smashed the light switch and he winced when the bright light burned, sending white spots whirling across his eyes. A building pressure in his right eye had him shutting it tight for a second longer.

He really should swap out his lights to one of those fancy dimming ones.

"How messy," he sighed to himself, finding the box that he ran into.

He bent over to shove the heavy cardboard against the wall. A thin layer of dust mushroomed into the air; torn cardboard flaps opened and revealed years old magician books.

Didn't he get rid of these? What were they doing here?

Kid laughed dryly as he picked up a thin, hard cover–

"_Disappearing Act_, huh."

He flipped through the pages, taking note of the messy scrawls in the margins and half-sketched plans– there were stars next to paragraphs of interest and light lines under words.

Kid remembered that he used to spend all-nighters figuring out how to slip out from under the veil of sparkly smoke. It had taken a month for him to disappear and reappear without the slightest trace of glitter on his clothes.

Now it was child's play.

He shut the book, tossing it back into the cardboard box with a tired fling of a hand.

Tomorrow was trash day. He would move these out; he really needed to clear the room. Kid kicked the cardboard box back into the corner and focused on the clutter taped to his bare wall.

Maps, stapled papers, and diagrams clung to the wall in an organized mess– well, not really organized since he had a ton of irrelevant pictures and postcards tacked on the space right next to the info printed straight from the police databases.

Hand outstretched, he traced the drawn red lines along the enlarged map of Tokyo. He was up late last night predicting routes and traffic flows.

Heist preparation.

In the past, he wouldn't have put so much thought into it– that was in the past.

Red would be his permanent flight and escape path– nothing changed there, unless someone decided to put a bullet in his hang glider, but that possibility was low. The blue was the routes of the little crows in their noisy cars– they'd get nowhere of course, not when the major intersections were congested with night time traffic.

Of course, Nakamori-keibu had deployed his task force to chase on foot before. Not only did they follow Kid's inflatable dummy miles across Tokyo, but they also had the job of intercepting his other chaser.

But of course, Kid had already predicted all of that.

They were the orange line.

Kid smiled, finger tapping the map before swinging to rest on stapled papers hanging an arm's length away.

He rifled through them with a finger. Stern faces were on each page along with police ID numbers, height, weight, strong points–

These people had been chosen to chase Kid on foot? What kind of sad joke was this?

"Quite the unfit people. They're not going anywhere."

The page stopped on a rather young man– late twenties, lanky build, easy going, lazy, apparently lacking motivation to chase Kid. He really had to wonder why Nakamori-keibu put him as the head of the foot team. If he couldn't catch Kid, he wouldn't be able to keep Tantei-kun away.

Which was perfect because no one should be interrupting the chase tonight.

Speaking of Tantei-kun…

Kid's eyes moved back to the map. His finger lightly traced the colored lines. The yellow was his little chaser's Route A, the purple was Route B, the green was Route C–

"It'll be a long night, neh?"

A copy of his original note was taped above the map.

Again, it was two lines long.

Again, Hakuba left a message saying that he had dinner with Nakamori-chan– _a date at that French restaurant, didn't he say? _Andagain– he had much better things to do than chase a thief.

Kid shrugged listlessly, stepping back to gaze at the line of messy gray-scale photos arranged on the wall next to his maps.

Too many things had happened for Kid to even feel remotely envious of the detective–

People move on. People change.

The picture was a duplicate on cheap copy paper. An identical face grinned at him from between the detective, witch, and inspector's daughter–

_Shhk–_

He tore it in half, splitting the smile down the middle. Fingers pinched and pulled; uneven paper triangles cascaded to the floor. Underneath the torn remains was a small photo copied from an elementary school yearbook– Tantei-kun.

There were only a few that didn't change.

He dusted his fingers of the paper and shook the blanket of shredded paper off his feet.

His plan for tonight was simple.

He'll herd the ground force into a back alley, lose the police cars, and then get cornered on the top of the apartment building.

"It'll be fun." He muttered.

Kid smiled gently. He felt tired, lethargic, slow–

"…see you tonight, Tantei-kun."

–

How boring.

It had been two hours already, the chase had let up and he still hadn't come. Kid was becoming increasingly impatient– maybe worried that they might have caught Tantei-kun before he could come–?

But Tantei-kun had been smart enough to dodge the police thus far. And with the playing field extended to cover a mile radius around the museum, there were many places he could hide.

Kid's skin turned clammy as the wind whipped around him. The steady rumble of the traffic below seemed to echo the stillness.

He tossed another glance behind him at the door.

_Why wasn't he here yet? _

Maybe like Hakuba, Tantei-kun doesn't want to bother with him anymore– Kid shook away the thought, laughter bubbling from his lips–

How could he have forgotten?

Tantei-kun was indeed a detective, but he was first and foremost a child– or had the face of one, at least. Who would allow him to run around the streets at night alone?

The thought made him breathe a bit easier. Only a bit–

That Mouri girl must have held him back, keeping him from darting around the city–

That must be it.

– _not really, but __maybe__. _

Kid smiled, muscles effortlessly pulling his lips up_._

But still he waited. Maybe he was waiting for the furious slamming of shoes against the concrete steps, or a staggered breath echoing up the stairwell–

Still nothing. Kid released a breath; shoulders slumped as he dug out his phone from his pants pocket.

_Beep-_

Two hours and forty-two minutes.

It was time to go home.

The phone disappeared with a small puff of smoke and slipped back to its place in his pockets.

How pathetic– he was a thief and he was letting things get stolen from him.

With something like a sigh, he stepped off the ledge and spiraled down into the alley below, hang glider springing open for a few seconds to slow the fall.

_How boring–_

His toes touched the concrete ground and his cape swept against his ankles. With one last hopeful glance, his eyes swept the area– still no one.

Hah, what was he expecting? Why would anyone be here at the dead of night?

Kid pulled off his apparel with a sharp tug on his cape, tucking the suit, hat, and dress shirt away into a sling bag. His monocle rested snugly in the pocket of his jeans, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He tossed the drawstring bag over his shoulder.

After the rush of the chase, his muscles throbbed slightly. It had been a long night, but not a very satisfying one.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked up the high walls of the alley–

This was Tantei-kun's route C– an alley made of towering walls and looming shadows. It was the perfect place for the small detective to hide from the police.

Kid knew all the little niches in the city, so he made it incredibly easy– _maybe_– for Tantei-kun to get to him without all the extra baggage tailing him.

In route C, all Tantei-kun had to do was climb up the emergency ladder hanging overhead and–

And–

His blood froze.

_And was that–?_

"Tan–" He nearly choked, eyes widening. It was hard to see in the shadows, but the faint outline of his signature tuft of hair was there.

He was on the ground. Unmoving, _lifeless_–

_How–?_

A chill settled in his throat. "God, _no_–"

_What happened? _

He rushed forward, nearly tripping over abandoned plastic boxes littering the ground. When he reached him, he saw the detective sprawled on the grimy concrete, jacket hood covering half his face, hand clenched loosely against the floor.

No visible injury, so it must be something else– Kid scooped him up with an arm, free hand automatically reaching to check for a pulse.

The skin was pale and a little bit cold.

_B-bmp– _

A quiet breath sprayed against his chest and the boy shifted in his arms, slim wrist slipping from between Kid's fingers. A small hand curled into Kid's sweater and an inaudible mumble passed his lips.

Ah.

Kid lifted him further and pressed his cheek to his forehead. It was cool with dried sweat but there was no fever. If Tantei-kun wasn't feverish then… did he faint from exhaustion?

He glanced down and something white was crumpled in Tantei-kun's hands. He pried it open finding a copy of his heist note, peppered with messy annotations written in pencil. The fingers closed again, caging the piece of scrap paper once more.

A shaky laugh pushed past his pressed lips.

Wow, he _was_ a bastard.

Gently, he lifted him fully from the ground– so small and so tiny, was he really ten? It was scary how light and bony he was. Well, whatever the case, he needed to get home to rest.

Kid adjusted him on his back, his head lolled against his shoulder. With a soft groan, hands lifted to wrap around his neck as Kid left the alley.

Home…

The crowd on the streets had dissipated into a trickle.

As he headed towards Beika, he could feel the steady, shallow breathing against his back move to his neck. The arms that had loosely clung around his neck tightened a bit, the heist note was still tightly crumpled in his hand.

_Stupid, stupid– this was going a bit too far wasn't it?_

Tantei-kun had always looked somewhat exhausted after each heist– and now Kid had finally pushed his limit and the detective had fainted from the strain. But to know that he'd push himself to the point where he was on the ground–

He felt both warmth and a chill pool in the hole in his chest.

Kid turned a sharp corner, leaving the congested streets and walking briskly into the darkening neighborhood.

–

"Sorry for intruding," he muttered to no one in particular when he kicked open the thick wooden door.

The lock was quite difficult to open even though it was a simple run of the mill European brand. It was probably jammed with dust–

Kid strolled in, leaving the door open.

Everything was black with shadows eating the edges where the streetlight didn't reach. From the left, he could see a tiny beam of moonlight streaming in through the library window– at least that was what he thought was the library.

He groped the walls feeling for a light switch. He hit it but waited a few seconds for them to flicker on. Dim golden lights illuminated the room and he nearly had a heart attack–

"Oh. They're just bed sheets…"

He sighed.

He walked around the cloaked bulges in the room, nearing one that looked like a desk. He picked up a corner of the dusty cloth, adjusting the weight on his back as he did so. Judging by the texture, it's been there for a while.

How odd.

Tantei-kun should be living here now– why wasn't he?

His eye caught a row of picture frames lined neatly along the bookshelf.

The shelves were the only things in the room not covered with hanging cloth. The glass in the frames was the only thing caked with a thick layer of dust.

It was as if Tantei-kun didn't care to keep them from being covered–

He brushed a hand over the glass and coughed at the floating particles that spilled into the air. Kid swiped his thumb away from a grinning face– one that was nearly identical to his own, but tame, naïve, proud– staring back at him between two figures obscured by dust.

Wasn't this the same picture used in the article announcing the death of–

"…mn."

Kid pulled his hand back and turned around. Right, he had forgotten that Tantei-kun needed to go home and rest–

But _home?_

A feeling in his gut told him that this wasn't it. He gave the study room a once over– large, high walls surrounded by books with veiled furniture crowding the room.

When he breathed, it smelled heavily of dust and reeked of old books.

The air was stale, stuffy and suffocating but at the same time– vast. The clocks lining the top shelves felt like eyes watching him, cold and unfamiliar–

_Tick, tick, tick– _

Kid shook his head and turned off the lights. The shelves and white-clothed furniture sank back into the darkness and he located the street light beyond the front door and past the gates of the Kudou House.

He walked out.

–

"Eh, Takagi, I'm sorry for all the trouble the brat caused you."

He fixed the bed sheets around him, pulling the coves until it sat snug underneath his chin. His large glasses were folded and placed on the tiny table next to his bed.

"Running around without permission…that brat."

Kid simpered under the latex mask, throwing a side-long glance at the disheveled detective slouching against the doorframe.

Kid straightened his back.

"It's not a problem. I should be apologizing for allowing him to stay up this late with us," he scratched the back of his neck nervously– a habit of Takagi-keiji's. The detective had his arms crossed, a sigh lacing his breath as his eyes studied the floor.

"Since you bothered to come all the way here, mind having a drink or two?" And with that, the detective jutted his thumb over his shoulder, down towards the stairs behind him.

The invitation surprised him– _drinking_…?

Sure he was the age to drink but–

Why would he want to stay any longer in the mask of a police detective–? He opened his mouth to decline, but the long shadows on the detective's face, short sighs, and blood-shot eyes piqued his interest.

In any other circumstance, he normally wouldn't, but–

"If it's not too much trouble."

–

The detective's office was just like he remembered from back when he had waltzed in to retrieve his dove.

Packed shelves lined with books that were never opened, cluttered desk with files and photos, ash trays half filled with the detective's cigarette stubs, the side of the desks strewn with ten empty beer cans– there were probably a mountain of them but Kid couldn't see beyond the glow of the desk lamp.

"There was a case where the lady lopped off the man's head because he cheated on her– What a bitch, don't you think?"

He belted out another chortle and Kid's shoulders tensed.

He had kept him for about half an hour, giddy about the interesting cases he had solved so far. Five cans of beer laid discarded next to him on the sofa.

Definitely drunk, especially since his entire face was drowned in red.

The Mouri girl had to be out for this man to be downing so many cans.

Kid's eyes flicked to the side, staring at the clock perched on the table.

_Tick, tick, tick–_

There was no other sound that echoed as loudly as that.

His lips hovered on the edge of the beer can in his hand and he could feel the aluminum surface warm. It was already so late–

The laughter died, replaced by an unnerving silence.

"Hey."

Kid brought his eyes back to the man sitting on the couch across from him. The shadows he had earlier draped over his eyes, his face seemed to sag. The man had aged, his skin almost ashen save for the red, alcohol-induced flush.

"Did he eat?"

Kid blinked as he took a polite sip, careful not to stain his mask. He rolled the stinging liquid on his tongue before swallowing. Take three seconds to reply– _pace it_.

"…eat?"

Mouri sucked in a sharp breath, pursed his lips, and shook his head. A smile stretched the detective's lips before they fell back into a frown. A croaky breath rattled against the edge of his can.

"Knew it."

Kid brought the can down from his lips and rested it against his knee. Mouri brushed a hand through his unruly hair; a few strands went awry. His hand fell down to his leg with a loud slap.

"I don't know what he's trying to do. Stupid brat never eats what I put on the table. It's not as good as Ran's food, but you know, it's still food."

With that he took another long swig of his beer, bringing it down to laugh breathlessly.

"Damn brat, he's never going to grow like that. Starving himself."

"He doesn't eat…was it always like that?" Kid echoed, voice pitched to sound like vague wonderment. The detective across him leaned back, bringing his arms to rest along the top of the couch.

"No. He was here for a while now. Damn parents left him here and didn't care to take him back." There was a heavy sigh and the detective fumbled to pull out his pack of cigarettes.

"He only looked up to Ran and that detective brat. Conan doesn't eat anymore, not after the brat was offed in America."

Kid gripped his can harder. "Oh… And you've been busy with cases, I take it?" Kid glanced at the cluttered table to make his point.

The towering stacks of fat manila folders on the desk were new– it was about a year ago when the sleeping Kogoro decided to open his eyes. He wasn't as great as his legend but–

"Sorta." There was a twitch of a smile on the corner of his lips before it dropped. "It's manageable. But you know, with my job, people want me out of the city to look at cases and I can't bring him along."

"What about the professor–" Kid pressed a finger to his temple, recall, _recall_– "Professor Agasa–?"

"Left to tour the world, god knows where he got the money for that."

His thumb flipped the lighter open before igniting the flame. He sucked in his cigarette and breath. Smoke snaked into the air as he breathed out, slow and shaky.

"I… see." The cool can was back on his lips and Kid took a mouthful of the liquid– as he swallowed, it burned his throat. He watched the light gray smoke form coils against the ceiling.

"Oi, I know this isn't your area but…" Mouri drew in a breath and allowed a puff of smoke to bellow from his lips. "…can you help me ask around the department? See if anyone can take him in?"

Kid brought the can down, holding it between both hands. "…Mouri-tantei?"

He gave a frustrated sigh, fisting the loose hair on his head before dropping his hand onto the couch. "I know. I know this isn't– but…I can't take care of him." He drew circles in the air with his hand, trails of cigarette wisps swayed after him. "Not when Ran's gone, not when I have to leave."

"…I see."

"That kid is a good kid. He needs someone to love him. I'll be damned if no one wants him."

Kid swallowed, drumming his fingers on his can of beer. He watched the detective take a furious breath of smoke and shake his head for the umpteenth time that night–

_Tick, tick, tick–_

It was already midnight–

"I'll ask around tomorrow morning," Kid started politely, rising from his seat. The detective didn't move his eyes from the spot on his coffee table. He was listless, eyes bloodshot and tired.

Kid bowed, though he doubted the man saw him. "Thank you for having me. It's getting late and I'll excuse myself–"

"Find someone for him, will you?"

Fierce dark eyes shifted and stared at him– _through him_ and his blood froze. A drunk man shouldn't have such a sharp, deducing gaze–

But it faded quickly into– _tiredness, worn, lost_– expressions that Kid was too used to seeing. Kid smiled, sympathy edging his voice and for a moment he almost forgot he was still wearing Takagi's face.

"I'll do my best, Mouri-tantei."

With that assurance, the detective's eyes returned to the coffee table, the cigarette in his hand was left burning without being touched.

Cold, cold _cold_– the air seemed to drop in temperature when Kid turned.

He placed the empty can of beer on the table and left.

–

–

I love reviews as much as I love my avocados. *u*! (And don't forget to check my deviantart, if you'd like to see the doujinshi that is on sale.)

–and now...back to drawing rofl. ;u;


	3. iii

A/N: I swear I didn't totally forget about this, I've just been swamped with a ton of drawing projects! *_*;;

Also a fellow reader sent me a message with questions and I thought I might as well explain my intentions of the story here.

Slow Time, as I stated in the first chapter, is a typical falling in love romance. The flashbacks in the beginning are bits and pieces of what had happened in their past that led them to where they are, but I'm not going to specifically explore what exactly happened because the story is not about what happened in the past but what's happening "now".

That being said, there's too much content in the universe that can't possibly be explained in Slow Time. I can say that _most_ of the questions will be answered, but I can't promise that everything will be answered.

**Shameless Advertisement Again:**

Anyways onto non-Slow Time things, I just finished my doujinshi, Emperor's Seal, a fantasy AU falling in love story with older Kid and Conan. It is up for pre-order now and will be released in late March. Check out the details here!

fav. me/d5v38qi (without spaces)

Thank you to Pounce who beta'd this chapter for me and I swear I'll get on with the next chapters after my next art project.;;

___–_

___–_

_-Beep-_

_Reminder on __November__10__ XX, Alarm: 6:30 am; pay respects to grave._

The small stone was decorated with fresh flowers crushed under a sea rock. The glow of the sun barely lit the kanji carved into the clouded black surface.

"A rose for a fellow magician," he murmured, fingers snapping and producing a blood red flower. He lifted the rose into the air and watched a gust of autumn wind blow it toward the vast blue–

The flower floated towards the edge of sharp rocks before the waves lapped it up and pulled back.

He sighed, brushing a knuckle over the bottom of his eye.

Salty.

This was the most ironic place for him to disappear from–

"Kaito–"

A sharp clang hit the paved concrete pathway a few feet behind him, and he tensed. The voice started again–

"_Kaito–"_

When he turned, she paused, hands withdrawing to her chest. A beat passed between them, and he swallowed–

Oh.

She smiled politely– _distant_– it barely reached her eyes. Blue eyes shifted to the ground. Nervous fingers gripped the fabric of her long dress; her voice was quiet against the loud crash of water hitting rock slabs.

"Sorry– I thought you were…"

He walked closer and picked up the dropped metal bowl. He stepped over the puddle of spilled water– was she the one who placed flowers on the grave?

"No, it's okay." He handed it to her, fingertips brushing over hers. He winced at the coldness of her skin. She pulled the metal bowl back and clutched it to her chest.

She studied him, dark blue eyes traveling over his face, pausing at the bridge of his nose, at his glasses, at the right eye that had lost its glow.

He bit back his lip, releasing the skin when a sting of salt seeped through. A smile pulled the corners of his mouth.

"Are you–"

–_alright? How have you been? How was school? What are you doing now, Aoko? And I'm sorry, I didn't mean to–_

The waves roared in laughter– _aren't you forgetting something?_

He wasn't _him_ anymore– live the lie, _live the lie–_

"Aoko-chan?" His eyes crinkled into a soft curve and he snapped his fingers. She was startled, eyes widening when a rose appeared in the blue smoke. He pressed it into her hands and a giggle pushed past her thin lips.

"Ah, yes…" Her smile widened and her hair draped over the side of her face. She cradled the rose, eyes tracing the contour of the petals.

"He…Kaito… Kaito used to do that for me. That dumb little trick where he made roses appear. All the girls swooned whenever he did it."

She looked up at him–_ the sun melted the shadow from her face__, her eyes were __swollen eyes, dripping watery trail– _but she wasn't seeing him.

"He was my childhood friend."

She pinched the petals with her fingertips, eyes falling to the space above his shoulder. "I thought I knew everything about him, you know? But he stopped coming to school; he was on a leave of absence for a few months. And–"

Her words died on her tongue, and the crash of the ocean consumed the silence.

"Unfortunate, isn't it? When someone just leaves?" he quipped a dry edge to his voice. She spared him a furtive glance before eyes drifted back down to the flower. She ran a petal edge against the pad of her index finger.

"I just…I never noticed it. And now there are so many things I want to tell him."

"I'm sure he doesn't think any less of you," he muttered, faint smile reassuring. She laughed under her breath and tucked the rose behind her ear.

With a sudden giggle, she stretched her arm forward. Bright smile, renewed and hopeful, graced her lips as she chirped, "Nakamori Aoko!"

He simpered, releasing a breath. The lump in his throat was swallowed. He caught her hand and bent over to give a low magician's bow and a peck on the knuckles. "Katou Kidou, at your service."

When he straightened, her brow had furrowed with a slight wrinkle and her smile had faltered. It was strained.

Her cold hands slipped from his grasp and she drew it back with a quick breath.

"Sorry, can I just–? I didn't get to hug him before he went."

The words latched around his throat and clenched it tight.

He opened his arms and shrugged a shoulder. "…sure."

He was tackled.

She burrowed her face into his navy blue sweater, wrapping her arms around him in a crushing hold, shoulders shaking as she choked.

He fell back as strangled words tumbled into the space above his heart_– "It's okay, Kaito, it's okay– I'll be here– I'll always be here–You're not alone–" _

And for a moment there, he felt lost.

_What was he doing? _

Dredging up memories that he had sunk in the sea–

He pressed a hand on her trembling back and held her closer.

She wasn't really talking to him–

But for a fleeting moment, the salt air stung his eyes.

He felt like he was drowning.

–

–

3:00:00

Just three hours, he told himself.

Three hours in the pressed black suit, blue dress shirt, and gelled back hair, following the crowd of experienced and inexperienced teachers floating along the school corridors–

"We recently started a shadowing program where we have our students pair up with one of Teitan High's students–"

He fell back a step when the crowd moved closer toward the windows and murmured in interest as students in navy blue– not pale anymore– spilled through the middle school gates.

When the vice-principal directed the crowd to one of the rooms, Kid slipped away into one of the empty halls.

The stampede of footsteps faded after a few steps.

Doors were half-opened with child-pitched voices spilling from the classrooms. They were inviting visitors to walk in and sit, to observe the students, to fill out the evaluations hanging on their clipboards–

Kid passed by a door, curious eyes hidden behind black-rimmed glasses. Several preteens stared at him distractedly but otherwise didn't offer a smile or a frown.

His eyes swept over their heads– nope. Not here.

He kept his pace and walked, dress shoes tapping the floor in long strides. In a neat row above the door frames were numbers and letters– most likely, judging by the age of the students and the numbers, _he_ wasn't here.

Just three hours and no more than that– the watch on his wrist with the alarm and falling numbers reminded him of that.

Kid walked past the rest of the classroom, shoulders scrunched and hands jammed in his pockets. He turned on his heels and headed down the stairs.

The unfamiliar stairwell loomed over him, white walls pressing him with questions: _what was he doing here?_ _Why bother?_

Maybe it was curiosity or maybe just a whim since he had no classes today, had leave from his jobs, and had nothing better to do–

Kid tapped his chin.

Since when was there anything better to do?

He couldn't recall so he shrugged again and let his hand fall.

–

2:46:19

"Are you lost?"

A light pat on his shoulder jolted him from his idle walk through the crowding halls filled with students half his age and height.

"Oh–?" He arched a brow, eyes scanning up and then down– a teacher, quite young, probably mid-twenties, commuting from one classroom to the next.

Kid smiled before bowing slightly. "Excuse me, I was just looking around."

"N-No, that's not a problem," she flushed with a nervous smile pulling her lips. She was probably single, going by the way she suddenly straightened her skirt and fiddled with her hairpin. "I presume you came with the visiting teachers?"

Kid took a step forward and she followed in suit, continuing in the direction of the office– "I did, but I've never liked following the crowd. I prefer wandering around and seeing the students this way."

"Is that so…?" She pushed back her hair behind her ears. "So…what do you think of our students?"

"Brilliant, but I've seen better." His eyes strayed to a few middle school girls giggling in a corner. He was sure he missed the flash of disappointment in the teacher's eyes. He hummed. "Teitan Middle seems to have some problematic students. I think I've seen one sleeping in class, the teacher didn't do anything to resolve the problem–"

A sigh to his left and he knew his guess wasn't that far off.

"Oh." She deflated. "If you're talking about him– none of the teachers know what to do."

"You could send a home tutor? At our school, we have a program where teachers have weekly visits to these students. Their attendance in the weeks that followed progressively improved–"

They turned a corner–

"No, it's not that he's not smart–"

– a familiar little head ran into his stomach. Kid wrapped an arm around him before he tripped–

Fat folders spilled onto the floor, a cascade of papers covered in scrawls littered his feet–

Color photo copies of bloodied faces stared back at him from the papers. He knew Tantei-kun liked murders but– _Isn't this going a bit too far? Bringing them to school now, huh?_

Kid wanted to snort, as the teacher near him gasped, hardening her voice as all teachers feigning to be strict would–

"Conan-kun, please watch where you're going–! You ran into our guest today–"

Hands fumbled and pushed at Kid's chest, albeit slightly weaker than usual– he let him go. Blue eyes– not sharp or vivid, it must be the lighting, _has to be_– glanced up at him and roved across his face before disappearing behind the shine of his glasses lens.

Where was the smirk–? That knowing gaze–?

He bowed, voice flat: "Excuse me, sensei. I wasn't watching where I was going."

A second passed and he couldn't swallow.

_Tantei-kun–?_

"Please don't mind him, Kimoto-sensei–" There was a light tug on his elbow, and he blinked– right, he wrote Kimoto on his name tag.

The little detective squatted and started to gather his fallen papers. She redirected her gaze at the middle schooler– "Conan-kun, I expect you to come on time for math, and please don't carry horrendous photos around with you."

Another quiet, "Yes, sensei–" passed through the detective's lips in a breath.

There was barely a bitter twitch on the edge of his mouth, barely a flicker of impatience, annoyance, or _anything _ behind the dull eyes.

Kid stepped back and away from the blanket of papers on the floor. The teacher was closer to him, hand comfortable on his arm. "I'm teaching math next, would you like to join us, sensei?"

He didn't move but watched little hands sweep up the remaining papers into a stack.

"Sure, I'd…love to."

Another tug, almost incessant, urged him to move on. Kid turned to him, chewing slightly on his inner cheek– "I'm very sorry…Conan-san, please excuse me for the trouble–"

A tug and the teacher pulled him away.

Tantei-kun didn't look up.

–

2:23:34

"In order to find the solution, you'll have to factor this–"

He watched a line of blue snaked into a 3x on the gray board. Heads bobbed up and down, hands hurriedly taking notes down in composition books.

It's ten minutes into the class and Kid had already figured out Yumiko's teaching pattern. It was still fairly early in the semester so her seating arrangements were formulaic. Last names starting with the same sound were grouped in sections.

She'd proceed to call on a student from each group, but–

"Genta-kun, could you answer this for us–?"

All heads turned to the boy in question except for one.

Interestingly enough, she's had the detective sit in the corner and ignored. Perhaps it was the oddity of his last name– _Edogawa_, no one else shared the same sound– or maybe he just chose that seat.

It was away from the whiteboard and isolated near the window.

From where Kid sat, an empty lone chair in the utmost back of the classroom, he noted that Tantei-kun did not look up once during the course of Yumiko's math lecture.

His head was barely inches away from the fat manila folders he had been carrying earlier. The led pencil in his right hand idly made strokes along the margin of whatever papers he was reading.

Kid watched his shoulders lift and drop with something that could have been a deep sigh.

The pencil was put down and his arms crossed on the desk. Not a moment later, his head ducked and stayed like that for the rest of the class.

–

1:30:12

"I don't want to impose on you–"

"Please, you're our class guest." Yumiko pushed the bento into Kid's hands. He simpered and thanked her quietly as she unwrapped her own bento–

"When are you scheduled to leave?"

Kid blinked as he placed the rubber bands onto the side of the plastic container– "In about two hours or so…"

"I see…" She nodded as she slipped a string of noodle into her mouth. "Then you'll be staying with us for the time being?"

He laughed, lips curled up– "Yes, why not? I wouldn't be able to meet up with the rest of them anyways–" Kid's eyes flickered to the corner. The little kids that flocked around the detective were there as always, respective lunches set on their desk, except–

"That's Edogawa Conan," Yumiko sighed before eating a piece of egg. "As a visiting teacher, you've probably noticed that he doesn't participate."

His eyes lingered as the detective shifted his folders over to make room for his friends, but otherwise kept his eyes glued on the papers.

"Yeah, I've been wondering–"

–_eyes glued on papers_? Where was his lunch?

_There was still a slight reminder of the detective's weight on his back–_ _so slim, so tiny, was he really ten? _

"_Conan doesn't eat anymore, not after the brat was offed in America."_

His stomach churned.

The classroom chatter faded in his ears.

His chair screeched as he pushed himself back–

"… he's not eating."

It was more of a whisper to himself than to the homeroom teacher. He grabbed the plastic bento, thumb pressing down the lid.

In a brisk walk, he had walked the length of the classroom towards the corner, eyes curiously turned and watched–

"You don't have lunch–" He dropped the bento on top of scattered murder reports. The pencil stopped in the middle of a kanji–

Kid's gut twisted and he wrung out a smile. "Please eat, Conan-san–"

Conan gave him an eerie silence, head unmoving and probably staring at the box placed in the middle of his report. There was the same lift and drop of his shoulders–

A hand pushed the bento to the side, away from him and toward Kid.

Conan looked up with a polite smile, eyes barely lifting up to see past Kid's thin disguise–

"Thank you, sensei, but I'm not hungry."

–

0:50:13

"Conan-kun is a special case," Yumiko sighed softly, hand flicking open the lights to the office. Kid followed her in, eyes scanning along the different work desks.

She had gone straight to the desk in the far middle and pulled out a thin stack of manila folders from the drawer. "It's somewhat embarrassing to talk about our own students in front of visiting teachers–"

"I'm more concerned about the student's well-being than filling in evaluation forms," he reassured her with a polite smile. He had already ditched the clipboard in the classroom some time ago anyways.

She returned the smile, tired and worn.

"Conan-kun has been like this for a while." Upon flipping open a certain folder, Kid caught a part of the -gawa in the detective's name.

She pinched a sheet from a stack of clipped papers. Yumiko handed it to him as she plopped the rest of the folder back onto the desk. "He's been assigned to my homeroom this year and I don't know what to do with that boy–"

His eyes ran over the compiled scores–

"His grades look decent–" Which was surprising because he expected better from Tantei-kun, perhaps full scores and not such _average_ marks–

She sat back against her desk, crossing her arms, a crinkle in her brow. "His elementary teachers all put in wonderful words for him. He's brilliant and rather famous outside of school. He's helped the police numerous of times with criminals and even started bringing murder cases to school. "

That didn't surprise him as much as he thought it would. Tantei-kun, a detective maniac, _would_ do that sort of thing.

"He really worries me."

He placed the paper back onto the desk, eyeing the picture of a thin boy in a middle school uniform. The curve on the detective's lips barely reached his eyes–

"Why is that? He seems to have such a bright future. He just needs the right encouragement…" Kid swallowed thickly, the words hollow in his mouth. The person in the picture wasn't Tantei-kun.

Not the one he met during their late night encounters–

"That's not always the case, Kimoto-sensei." Her voice was mellow and a bit quiet. A slim hand pulled the manila folder closer, manicured fingers brushed over his name.

"Why not?"

Her eyes never left the profiled paper, "Because geniuses get bored…they get a bit lonely when things become still, don't they?"

His eyes wandered to the dull blue in Tantei-kun's eyes, the thin line that was supposed to be his smile.

"…Perhaps."

–

0:10:20

He and the female teacher went about their own ways at an intersection on the fourth floor. She had to get to her next class and Kid had to head down to the first floor.

"It was a pleasure showing you around, Kimoto-sensei."

He bowed and snapped a finger. Kid folded a rose into her hand. "I've enjoyed it."

With a shy laugh, Yumiko left him standing alone in the halls.

The resonating taps of her heels filled the silence. He decided to take his time heading downstairs.

–

Teitan was different from Ekoda middle.

Although they shared near-identical uniforms– black high collars and typical skirts and blouse– the buildings in Teitan carried a new air. It had better facilities, whiter halls, shinier tiles– maybe Teitan renovated recently sometime or maybe Kid was just old.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and skipped down the empty hallways, eyes sweeping the ceiling and over the room's plaque numbers.

Kid occasionally peered in through the glass windows of the classroom doors. Students barely gave him a glance and so he continued on.

Within twenty-some taps of his shoes, he was at the end of the hall. Blue eyes watched as the tip of his shoes met the cracks in the tiles.

He was about to turn before the sound of paper stilled his breath.

Kid looked up.

The sound of paper falling–?

The door was open to the last room in the hall. Did he pass by this one?

Kid backtracked and peered in, hands fished out from his pockets. A breeze greeted him, as a soft rustle of paper filled the silence.

There was a soft sigh– painfully held and heavily released– and it disappeared as wind poured from the open windows.

Kid's eyes traced a waterfall of crowded papers from the floor and up to the folders that once held them. Color photo copies of bloodied faces stared hollowly at the ceiling as they were picked up and thrashed around by a soft wind.

_Tantei-kun–?_

A slim body was perched on the desk in the corner. His head was cradled in his arms and facing the window. His elbow had pinned the corner of the folder.

_His free-period most likely, but why here and– _

Tantei-kun's back rose as he took in another slow sigh. His hand shifted to grip his bangs, elbow knocking the folders off the desk.

They opened and spilled across the floor of the empty classroom.

Tantei-kun didn't move.

0:00:01

Kid's hand gripped the door frame hard before letting go. His arm dropped back to his side and he pedaled back.

Just three hours, he had told himself.

Three hours in the pressed black suit, blue dress shirt, and gelled back hair–

_Beep. _

It was time to leave.

–

–

Don't think too much or too hard on this verse. xD; Like how I write for enjoyment, you should also read for enjoyment. So shhh, relax your brains. -paps faces-

Reviews are like the honey on charsiu, delicious and yummy. *u*~

/slinks away to never be seen again until next update, and back to drawing for that artbook oho ho hoho.;;


	4. iv

A/N: I'm terrible, I know, I'm sorry. I got caught up in drawing another doujinshi again and so stayed silent since the last update- which was right after I finished my other doujinshi. xD;;; So I swear this will be my last doujinshi for this time of year. I'm not gonna make another one...NOPE, NOT EVEN FOR THEIR BIRTHDAYS. Omigod, I can't handle the deadlines lol. |D;;

(Ooh and check out my April Fool's Doujin~ Pre-orders are up awyea~ fav.(delete this space)me/d600xog)

So back to the topic of Slow Time, it's certainly taking a rather slow time writing this... I'm not really sure what I've been trying to write or what style I want to write in anymore. But then I figured that hey, I'm writing it for funsies so oh wells.

But thanks so much to nightpounce for being awesome support in my writing and my art stuff~ I can't be any more grateful to you because heck, no one really buys anything from me anyways. (And I just end up drawing things for myself;; ) akjshka but yea, I just love youuu~

And I changed the picture of the story if anyone cares. xD

**Note; and this is best read in tiny font. * u * or maybe it's just me...h ah haha,, idk. enjoy guys~**

–

–

_Live the lie, live the mask–_

A mantra he chanted in the back of his mind whenever he touched the cardboard box of books– (he kept telling himself to throw them away on weekends– but he just _forgets_.) or flipped open his black phone.

It was an old model. Two years ago, it was sparkling new. Now, it's left with a dull shine since salt bit the lacquer off the cover.

The mattress creaked under his weight as he shifted. The small opened boxes caved, siding toward him, jabbing into his skin with sharp corners.

He brushed them away, satisfied with a sound of them falling against the floor. He sat back into the pillows crowding the headboard.

With a snap of a wrist– exactly like how he always opened it– the screen flickered to life. A grayscale, newspaper clipping of a white thief grinning behind a monocle served as his background–

He laughed quietly– such a dork.

A small blue box blocked off the thief's face though– "New Voicemail," it read with thin black letters.

It wasn't new.

It was just never opened.

_Beep. _

He drew in a breath and left the phone on his stomach as he twisted around and fell backwards, landing a top series of grooves and bumps on the spring-loaded mattress. He breathed deeply through his nose, eyes tracing the torn maps and papers on the wall, illuminated by the warm glow of a stolen police searchlight.

_"You have one new message: Novemeber 18 XX."_

His eyes followed the shadows stretching along the walls–

Beep.

_"Hey. It's me." _

What a liar.

His chest tightened.

Live the mask, live the lie– even to himself.

_"Your friends are doing well, moving on actually. Aoko is cheerful, but she really misses you. I guess that's what…things do to you, huh. Tantei-san knows I'm Kid, but he has no evidence as usual– doesn't even care to chase Kid anymore. That makes things a lot easier… But you know, it's not so bad. People have already forgotten you. That was your intention, wasn't it, Kaito? To be forgotten–?"_

Beep.

The phone crashed against the ground and the screen blackened.

Maybe it was nothing more than a little whim when he bought two phones instead of one.

Paperwork was always a hassle since he would sometimes sign with the wrong name– he'd accidentally write the strokes for _Kuro_ before he remembered and asked for another piece of paper.

It took a while, but after an hour or so picking through the models and going through two copies of agreement papers, he was milling about the streets of Tokyo with two flat flip phones sitting heavy in his pocket.

Kid pocketed his hands, feeling the smooth surface of the phones rub against his skin. His shoulders scrunched as the lingering wetness in the air chilled his arms.

It was a quiet evening, though he could hear the wail of the sirens and the notorious inspector booming off in the distance.

Won't be quiet for long…

With a twist of his shoulder, his backpack flung to his front, where he unzipped the top and dropped the two white cellphones in.

He'd keep these here with him until he was done with his heist. Another boring challenge from the old man obsessed with catching him.

It wouldn't even take him an hour to slip through security, dismantle the cage in which the jewel sat. Within thirty minutes, he'd be standing on the museum's roof, jewel snug between his fingers and facing the sky–

–

"Still nothing."

He popped the jewel into the air with a flick of a thumb, catching it and wrapping it with a small handkerchief. Kid hummed as he gingerly placed the stone on the concrete ledge.

No chase, no thrill.

Tantei-kun wasn't here. Not that Kid was really expecting him to show up today… it would have added a bit more excitement to the heist but–

He stood up with a flourish of his cape. Usually Jirokichi was a flashy old man, abusing his wealth to have helicopters float around the museum's perimeters and broadcast "Kaitou Kid's Defeat" on national television. But today there were no such thing.

It was probably the rumble in the sky and occasional blinding flashes that prompted Jirokichi to agree that helicopters weren't a great idea tonight.

Soon, the taskforce would be bumbling their way up the stairs.

Kid had little time.

– a phrase he hardly ever used because he usually gives himself hours to finish the heist, to prolong the chase, to watch Nakamori's little men dance into his traps and walk out in humiliation.

_Not enough time– _

Kid glanced down at the pearly white phone before shutting it with a snap.

11:23 pm.

Judging by the humidity lingering in the air and the soft rumble of thunder, it'd storm soon. It would be kind of dumb to fly in the skies right now– but it was only a five minute flight away.

Kid tugged his hat firmly onto his head before stepping off the ledge.

–

While the wind ruffled his hair and rain pelted his face, he thought about it.

_What was he doing? _

Why bother?

Maybe it was that he shared the same tiredness in those blue eyes, felt the same heaviness whenever he breathed, forced into living a lie–

Perhaps, he felt that after living without anything, he wanted _something_–

Kid smiled, muscle pulling the corner of his lips as rain slid around the curve of his monocle.

Or maybe he was just bored.

_If so, wasn't this going beyond anything that would quench boredom?_

He didn't want to think too hard about it– about what he was doing, what he was risking, what boundaries he was crossing–

_But – _

Kid swallowed as he twisted and turned within the darkened sky.

For a man that had lost everything with a gunshot– he had nothing to lose, so why not?

He'll try and it'll take time.

–

Kid landed on the metal staircase above the Mouri Detective Agency, cape fluttered heavily as he folded his glider. He was drenched with no extra change of clothes.

Maybe he should have hidden his bag somewhere closer.

Kid tsked himself as he picked a corner of his cape with a soggy glove. It was a miracle he was able to get here without being struck by lightning–

But still, the rain was a bit…

_Great way to ruin his first impression. _

A soft beep caught his attention and his eyes were drawn to the open window and dim light inside. He breathed heavily as there was a weight on his shoulders– but it wasn't the rain-soaked cape.

Another beep.

His insides quivered and it wasn't from the cold rain and wind. Kid ghosted forward, shoe clanging against the metal a bit too loud–

Kid paused and waited–

Another soft beep.

His hands clenched and unclenched, water seeped down from his knuckles.

_What was he doing here? _

He pressed his back to the wall near the window, eyes staring straight at the grey buildings across from the agency. The smell of coffee and heavy rain wafted in the air and shortly after, he heard a bell jingle below him.

The cafe– he thought absently, turning his head toward the stretched streaks of lights on the sidewalk– would be a nice place for a hot chocolate after this.

Kid shivered, feeling a tremble settle in his shoulders.

It was cold, he was wet, and somewhat lost.

Hot chocolate would _really_ be nice after this.

Raising a hand, back still pressed against the wall, he held a breath and knocked against the glass.

The bed creaked. One creak and nothing more– Kid counted the seconds–

"Kid…?"

Kid ducked his head at the mention of his name. Water spilled off his silk hat and splattered on the floor. It must have been the shadow of his hat that gave him away or maybe the cape that stuck to his window.

Crap, he really was in no condition to be here.

What would Tantei-kun say if he saw how pathetic he was– soaked to the bone with May's showers?

Soft footsteps thudded across the wooden floor boards at stretched intervals. The thuds faded when Kid's shoulder dropped.

"What are you doing here?"

He had been wondering that himself.

Kid breathed out slowly. Tantei-kun's voice was soft, curious, hesitant– and certainly not hostile. He pulled off his top hat, holding it by the rim. The blue ribbon was near black, white silk stained grey.

A soft rumble growling in the distance, the harsh rhythm of rain falling, a rustle of the curtains behind him, and the sound of metal sliding–

Kid turned, smiling at the wide-eyed detective.

"Mind if I come in?"

The window was opened before he even asked.

–-

He didn't expect such hospitality.

"Dry yourself."

A towel was thrown at his face and he coughed. His skin prickled at the cold blowing in from the window behind him.

Mother Nature wasn't kind tonight, but at least she pitied him enough to wait until he landed before she unleashed her full wrath. The drumming of heavy rain echoed against the metal pipes framing the building, and Kid was glad he didn't arrive a few minutes later.

Kid pulled off the towel and watched the boy rummage in a cardboard box.

Funny that Tantei-kun didn't reach for the phone to dial the police. Funnier that Tantei-kun didn't clasp handcuffs over his wrist once he stepped a soggy shoe into his bedroom.

He leisurely leaned back against the floor, eyes mapping the room. To say that he wasn't here before would be a lie. Though, he was under the guise of that police inspector but it was only for a few moments before he was dragged downstairs.

Now that he sat in front of a small low table in the middle of Conan's room, he could sit back and appreciate the soccer posters on the detective's wall and a cheap paper replica of a Sherlock Holmes painting.

A simple bed sat in the corner, sheets flat and smooth. _What a neat detective–_

Kid brought his eyes back to the stack of manila folders messily pushed aside on the little table–

He smiled–

_Maybe, he wasn't so neat. _

These fat folders…weren't they the ones that Tantei-kun carried around during school? Kid lifted the cover and shuddered when he saw a detailed shot of bullet-broken skin.

Yup, definitely the same ones.

Seriously, what kind of morbid pleasure does Tantei-kun get from staring at blood and dead bodies? Curiously tilting his head, Kid continued to rummage, gloved fingers pushing past papers until a familiar face and sharp grin stopped him–

"What would possess you to fly in the rain–?"

Kid drew back his hand, watching the folder and papers flutter back to the disorganized mess they had been before. He'll just leave that there.

"It wasn't raining when I first flew–"

He held back a quiet sneeze. It was really cold despite it being spring.

Kid began to dry his hair with the soft towel in his hand. He left it hanging on his head, the edges tickled his bare shoulders as he peeled off his shirt. He shivered when the cold nipped his damp skin –

"Ran probably packed a spare shirt somewhere else–"

Conan paused.

Kid folded his blue shirt and plopped it next to the outstretched cape and suit. He glanced up from underneath the white of the towel.

"Hm? You were saying–"?

Oh, Tantei-kun stopped because he was staring at him.

They shared a blink.

Staring at him?

Somehow Kid wasn't surprised–? Maybe he was a bit charmed because that wide-eyed stare and parted mouth was kind of cute–

Kid smirked and Tantei-kun's face flushed red.

"S-Stupid, don't start stripping–!" he sputtered, tilting his head down until the gleam of his glasses shielded his eyes. The small detective snagged the corner of a shirt and slugged it at him.

The red cloth hit Kid's face and then tumbled down into his lap. Kid flinched–

"I already started a few moments back," Kid easily replied, eyes wandering to the outstretched pile of wet clothes on the floor. The fact that his cape was making dark puddles on the ground– he must have soaked up a lot of rain.

"And besides, Tantei-kun…" With two fingers, he daintily picked up the red apparel, pinkies up, a playful smile on his lips. "You can't expect me to wear _this_…?"

Conan-sized with a large orange-stripe running across the chest.

The boy flushed a shade darker and gave a nasty scowl. "Just– Just cover up, will you? Good god–" And he whisked around again.

Kid watched him; Tantei-kun's shoulders were rigid, movements jerky as he dug through the box. Every so often, he'd try to peek over his shoulder but would immediately give up and look down at the box of old clothes.

The dust of red on his cheeks was really cute, Kid mused with a lopsided grin. It was the same splash of red whenever Tantei-kun reached him at the end of his heists–

"Stupid thief." Conan seethed, back straight, shoulders bunched, hands stacking the folded shirts.

This was entertaining, oh so very entertaining.

He leaned back against the floor, towel haphazardly hanging off the damp spikes of his hair. "Tantei-kun, do you like it?"

At this, Conan froze, fingers clamped around one of his polo shirts. Kid was given an irritated and confused glance.

"Like what?" he fired back; the red had receded from his face and replaced with a cute grimace. Tantei-kun was literally burning holes at Kid's face– was he really trying that hard not to let his eyes drift _down_?

Cute.

"My body–"

Tantei-kun choked.

"Lean muscles and toned abs– I've trained as an acrobat for a while if you didn't know–" Kid smiled, hand brushing over the ridges of his abdomen. It was rather cute how blue eyes attached to his hand like a magnet and followed his fingers _down_–

Maybe Conan's fascination with his body (though the detective would stubbornly deny it) had something to do with a curiosity of what he would look like if he had his original body back.

Or maybe, he just liked it.

Or maybe, he just liked him.

Kid smiled bigger at the thought– "You can touch me if you like~"– before a blue sweater slammed into his face and wrapped around his head.

"God damn it–" Conan snarled at him before tearing his eyes away. "Stop treating me like one of your brainless fangirls."

Kid pulled aside the other Conan-sized shirt and piled it next to his clothes. He watched the boy blow open another cardboard box with a rough kick of his foot. "I'm not. But in all honesty, you might as well be one, Tantei-kun~"

And he stretched leisurely on top of the wooden table, spreading himself out quite nicely that if Suzuki-san had been in the room, she might have die from blood loss.

Conan head shifted a fraction before snapping back towards the box. "Idiot, I only solve codes. That's all I do."

_Isn't that all he's been doing the past few heists–? _

"_And _you take the time to come to _every _heist I've had since we met, you wouldn't tip off the police because you want to see me by yourself, you would also go to the lengths of proving my innocence when people pin murders on me. So what does that mean? You can't resist me at all, neh, my dear critic?"

There was a silence and an audible tsk.

"Shut up."

And the bickering stopped there.

His ears were red now, Kid noticed, and Conan was practically half-buried in the cardboard box, furiously shoveling out clothes that he would later have to put back.

Although he loved his sharp mind and witty tongue, Kid wasn't surprised that he was quieter today.

His eyes wandered over to an old phone that was resting on his bed; it wasn't Tantei-kun's usual smart phone that he toted along with him to solve crimes.

Rather, it was old, a bit clunky around the sides with an old soccer ball strap hanging from the bottom.

"…How many messages did you get this year?"

Conan's back straightened.

A beat passed.

"None."

And Tantei-kun pulled a wrinkled white dress shirt from the old box. The rain competed against his voice, quiet and clipped. Kid vaguely wondered if he said too much–

"I was…"

A breath broke his voice and Conan's head snapped upwards– a sigh and it was heavy. "I was thinking of getting rid of that thing actually."

Kid tilted his head, watching the boy smooth out the wrinkles in the shirt. He brought it closer to him; maybe he was looking for loose threads. But judging by the hollow gaze, he wasn't really. Tantei-kun just needed something to do–

"Dumb thing doesn't…work anymore. The alarm doesn't get me up for school."

Kid said nothing, only watched Conan turn toward him, the white shirt dangling from his hands, the buttons picked at with trembling fingers.

"But I guess…after a while, I don't really care anymore." He gave a weak shrug, his eyes tracing the lines in the wooden floorboards. Kid eyed the stack of manila folders–

"You carry them around."

Conan's eyes quickly flickered to the folders. "I can't do anything else." A thin smile and another shrug. His bangs tickled his eyelids. "The police are still investigating it. They can't let go."

Kid watched Tantei-kun's fingers crinkle the collar of the shirt. "They thought it was too sudden. _The FBI must be covering something up. The FBI must have made a mistake._ Megure-keibu was pushing for an investigation."

Kid sifted through the folder again, lifting the cover just enough to see an almost identical face grinning at him confidently– an old picture, three years old–

"It's a cold case I was given to solve." There was a light tap in front of him, and Kid raised his eyes to see the boy kicking at the floor. "But I can't help them with this."

With a sad sigh, Conan had moved forward. He scoffed softly, "It'd just be better if everyone forgot about him, yeah?"

The boy looked up and caught Kid's eyes, and for a while in the silence, Kid swore the blue started to gloss. He looked lost. An expression Kid knew so well since he'd often seen the same look in the mirror many times before.

The patter of the rain continued on, and Conan blinked, suddenly startled–

"Here, I found one of Ojisan's old shirts, cover up–" And he threw it at Kid's head. The long-sleeved shirt wrapped around his head– what a way to kill a mood– and with a struggle, Kid picked it off.

Conan, by now, had thrown himself onto his little bed, mattress creaking when he reached for the old phone. With a small sigh, Kid pulled on the shirt, crinkling his nose at the cardboard smell from the fabric.

There was an extended silence as he buttoned his shirt, and then Conan spoke up from his pillows: "Do you miss him?"

Kid looked at the detective curiously. "Miss who?"

"The person you were before you became Kaitou Kid?"

Kid studied Conan's still figure. He wasn't looking at him, but scrolling through old messages. His eyes slid back down to the last button on his shirt, catching the light glimmer of red below his glove.

"Sure, I do. But after a while, I don't mind it." He leaned backwards, gloved hand swiping the towel off his damp hair.

He paused, eyes settling into a daze on Conan's phone– "I don't mind it…"

Heavy silence hung, before he smirked and threw a playful look at Tantei-kun. "It suits me now that I think about it."

"Being a womanizer?" Conan deadpanned as he turned the phone over in his hand. Kid smiled.

And like that, with careful and planned phrases, Tantei-kun automatically fired back a biting remark. _That's more like him, but not quite._

Kid peered at Conan, the charm of his monocle swaying after him.

"You don't like it? The gentlemanly charm?"

Conan threw an unimpressed stare at Kid's bright, winning smile.

"What are you doing here anyways?" he sighed. Kid perked up from his seat on the floor.

"Just here for a light chat." Kid took his time breathing his words, ever so mindful of the ticking clock and the letting up of the storm outside.

He heard a tsk. Tantei-kun was impatient, maybe tired since he pulled off his glasses and set them next to his pillow.

"You came here to do something stupid since today's my birthday, didn't you?"

And Conan turned his face away, perhaps from embarrassment at even admitting the thought. Kid simpered– too bad, he couldn't surprise Tantei-kun about his birthday anymore.

"It hurts when you say that."

Kid stood up, and with a few light thuds on the hardwood floor, he plopped himself right next to Conan. Conan's shoulders jumped at the sudden dip on his bed and he nearly fell on him.

Kid would have liked that, but Tantei-kun decided to catch himself before he did.

"Magic tricks aren't stupid."

"It'd be a lot useful if you used them to disappear from here–" A gasp caught in his throat. Conan looked away, shifting farther to the front of his bed. A slight red edged under his eyes–

"Sorry–"

"It's fine." Kid closed the distance, reaching behind Conan and reeling him to his side. The small body tensed when Kid cradled the tiny hand. Conan's fingers curled tighter around his old cellphone. "It'll be fast. I promise. Just this and I'll leave."

Kid could feel the detective exhale quietly, shoulders dropping and weight pressing into Kid's chest. Kid gingerly placed a white cloth on top of his hand.

"What are you doing–?"

Kid hesitated.

"I'm not so sure myself."

The shoulders tensed again when Kid brushed his chin over the top of his head. He stared at the blank wall ahead of him. "I don't know what I'm doing."

He wrapped another arm around the slim torso, reeling him closer. Conan was near boneless, having given up fighting against him.

_What on earth was he doing here–?_

Tantei-kun smelled nice and was warm, warming the cold skin behind the thin white shirt.

"Kid–?"

He smiled into the back of Conan's head. "Three…two and–"

Kid hummed.

The handkerchief exploded with a light blue smoke, and Conan's hand would have flown backwards in shock had Kid not gripped his wrists in place.

"Kid–" he started to hiss before the smoke cleared from his hand. Conan fell silent when a pearl white cellphone glimmered under his fingers. "How–?"

"A magic trick for the birthday boy," Kid huffed proudly as he tucked the cloth up into a pocket in his glove.

Kid bounced off his bed, whirling around to smirk at Conan. The detective was a bit livelier. Granted his lips were still twisted in a frown, but his eyes were set in a concrete gaze while his mind churned out possibilities of _how–_

"Well, now that my business is done here–"

"I already have one."

Kid let out an exaggerated sigh as he picked up the bundle of clothes from the floor.

"Yes, I'm aware of that," Kid drawled. Conan ducked his head to stare at his reflection in the black screen, Kid flicked his cape and changed quickly within a puff of smoke.

He backpedaled to gaze out the window. The smell of rain lingered heavily in the air but there was no storm, which was good, his life wouldn't be so threatened now.

With a graceful leap, Kid was perched on the metal frame of Conan's open window.

"It's a birthday present, Tantei-kun."

"That's obvious, but what for?" Kid tugged down on his top hat, hiding a fond smile behind his gloved hand. Tantei-kun was always so straightforward.

How charming.

Conan's innocent, child-like face implored him for an answer. Kid clicked his tongue and smirked, lips curling up–

"A new alarm clock."

Conan stared at him, mouth hanging open, as Kid stepped onto the metal staircase outside, glider springing open as he took a quick step forward.

"For a change of pace, if you will."

-–

–

So... me and my ridiculously long chapters again. Goodness god, this has been like six thousand some words maybe.;; Anyways, I hope your eyeballs didn't fall off when reading.

And if you can spare the time and bit of trouble, please leave behind reviews~? :'D I love reviews~~


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